We started very young, me and Ebo. He said he loved me right after SHS, and I accepted. He didn’t have a room of his own, and I didn’t have mine, so we could only meet outside the house, where nothing could happen between us. His dad was very strict, and mine barked even male friends away from me, so we were very careful with the love we said we had for each other. Along the line, he travelled to the city to start university.

We lost contact for over seven years. When we met again, Ebo was a man with a full-grown beard and a voice with a thick bass. I’d relocated to the city to start a new life, but somehow, the old life caught up with me.

He was working and had bought a new car for himself. I’d rented a place I was struggling to decorate. I couldn’t even afford a bed frame, so my mattress was on the floor in the corner.

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I visited his place once, and he told me he still loved me, so if I had no man in my life, we could take it from where we left off as kids. I accepted without thinking twice about it. I called my mom and told her about it. She called it destiny and the reward of patience.

We dated for a year and travelled back home for a festival. I introduced him officially to my parents. They knew him. They saw him around when he was young. My dad told us our union was perfect because we both came from one place. He advised us to think about the future rather than just having fun with the relationship. Right there, Ebo told my dad that he would be coming home very soon to make it official.

A few months later, his family met my family, and they performed the knocking rite. When he got the list, he promised to return very soon for the actual marriage ceremony. We even started buying the things on the list until he told me one day, “I need you to have a baby for me first before marriage.”

I laughed. He said he was serious. I told him, “Then you should marry me tomorrow so I can have a child for you nine months later.”

“I did the knocking. That’s as good as the marriage itself.”

I responded, “Knocking isn’t marriage. It’s a declaration of intentions. Let’s follow it up with marriage, and then we can talk about a child.”

He still insisted on a child first, and because of that, he tried getting me pregnant during intimacy. He did it without protection, but I protected myself afterwards.

My rent expired, so he asked me to move in with him since we were going to get married very soon. I obliged and packed my things to live with him. I convinced myself that indeed he was ready for us to get married if he would ask me to live with him. I softened my stance and got pregnant by him. He was so excited that he bought me a new phone and came home with gifts for me every evening.

My dad was disappointed. He called me a disgrace and said I’d dishonoured his name by getting pregnant for a man I wasn’t married to. He stopped picking up my calls and even threatened to disown me. I cried to my mom and asked her to apologise on my behalf. My dad continued to shun me.

I gave birth to a girl. Ebo said, “I wasn’t looking for a girl. It has to be a boy first.”

Instead of being happy, he cast a gloomy figure as if it was my fault I had a girl. It broke my heart, and right there, I started regretting my decision to give him a child before marriage. My dad came around when the baby came. I cried and thanked him for forgiving me. He asked when the marriage would happen, and I couldn’t answer. Meanwhile, Ebo kept insisting on a male child before marriage.

He wouldn’t give any reason. I asked if the demons he worshipped were requesting a male child, and he insulted me. Our child was three months old when he started asking me if I was ready to give him the male child. I told him it was never going to happen, and if that meant he wouldn’t marry me, so be it.

He came home one evening with a very young lady. She could even be less than nineteen. He said the lady was going to live with him and give him a male child, so if I wasn’t ready, I should find somewhere else and move to. I looked at the face of the girl. She was too shy to look back at me. I asked if her parents knew she was doing that, and Ebo screamed, “That’s not your concern.”

I told him, “Give me a few days. I’ll leave so you can bring her.”

I called my dad and broke down in tears. I gave him his stone first before telling him what I’d been through. He called Ebo on the phone and started giving it to him from left to right. He warned that if anything happened to me, he would hold him responsible.

My dad later sent me money and asked me to rent a new place and leave his house. It took close to a month. I didn’t tell him I was leaving. He could travel and not tell me where he was, so I moved out and left the keys under the doormat.

Truly, he brought the girl to live with him, and because I left without telling him, he warned me not to ever call and ask for money for the child.

I told him, “God will take care of us.”

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Less than six months later, I heard he had been involved in an accident and was in critical condition. I visited the hospital and saw him. I went there again days later, and his right leg was gone. He was crying the whole time I was there. The young girl he took home was also pregnant. I saw her there. I went back home and never visited again.

Today, he’s asking me to forgive him so we can take it from there.

I said, “When you were a full human, you threw me away. Now you’re bringing me half of you. That’s all I deserve from you, right?”

I can pity his situation, but I respect myself too much to go back to him. Even my dad will disown me if I try.

—Claudia

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